


An offer he can't refuse

by greedy_dancer



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, The Academy Is...
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beaches, Depression, Ice Cream, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:19:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greedy_dancer/pseuds/greedy_dancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Gabe is the king of the beach.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	An offer he can't refuse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for no_tags 2012 for the prompt: 48. Gabe/William - at the beach (involving ice cream? :-D?) 
> 
> Many thanks to Jedusaur, Crazybutsound and Knight_Tracer! And to the mods for running the challenge again.

Gabe is the king of the beach. 

Well, okay, maybe not the king, exactly. Maybe he’s more like the don. The boss. The Godfather. 

He’s got his lieutenants in place at strategic points on his turf. Nate’s the lookout, sitting at the entry point to their territory with his djembe, ready to beat the alarm in case a health inspector is spotted. Suarez, Vicky and Ryland form the distribution chain. The guys roam the beach with their iceboxes while Victoria lies on her towel, a couple of people always around her. 

Pete usually stays inside the truck; in theory he’s holding down the fort, sitting behind the wheel, ready to drive off if any health inspectors are spotted. In practice, he can usually be found lying on the seat, on top of or under Mikeyway, but Gabe forgives him because Pete’s the best second anyone could ask for. 

Gabe himself, well. He’s more of a coordinator, really. He makes sure their operation remains well-supplied and takes care of the cash; he keeps his customers happy and checks that no one is thinking of reporting them. 

He knows most of them now. He’s hooked the kids with his “first one free” policy and the moms keep coming back because he flirts with them. Alex and Ryland take care of the elderly – it’s all that Florida experience – and of the stoners, borrowing their guitars and making them laugh with their mariachi/London mods impressions. 

Vicky’s a teenager magnet, half of them staring at her boobs and the other half asking for beauty tips. 

So yeah, Gabe knows who everyone is, knows what everyone wants, and does his best to keep everyone happy. There’s just one person he can’t figure out. 

The Guy with the Guitar. 

*

The Guy with the Guitar is an enigma. 

(He's the Guy with the Guitar because, while there are other guys with guitars on the beach, none of them are worthy of capital letters.)

The Guy with the Guitar comes every evening, just after the families leave but before the dudebro crowd arrives. He’s got a guitar case with him, but never plays the guitar. He just lays it down on the sand next to him. He doesn’t bring anything else; no towel, nothing. He never goes into the water. 

He’s got long hair and a bandanna around his neck, which along with the guitar would point to him belonging to the hippie group; but he wears skinny jeans and leather shoes, which don’t. His hair is brown and shiny-looking, not discolored blond, so he’s probably not a surfer. He doesn’t smoke or eat or drink anything. He doesn’t have earphones on. He doesn’t come to draw or take pictures, like Mikey’s brother and his tattooed friend sometimes do. He doesn’t look like he’s meditating, either. He just… watches. 

He just doesn’t _fit_ on Gabe’s beach, and Gabe doesn’t understand him, which is something he can’t have on his turf. 

Gabe’s sent him Vicky, then Suarez and Ryland and finally Pete, but none of them have managed to sell him anything or even strike up a conversation. It’s not about the money, either, because Gabe’s told them to supply him for free. The dude just doesn’t want any part of it. 

The Guy with the Guitar is a mystery. A mystery who doesn’t like ice cream. 

* 

Gabe totally knows that, as far as illegal activities go, selling ice cream on a New Jersey beach without a permit is not what will bring him the most street cred. He’s not deluding himself here. But who wants to spend the hottest days of the summer in the city, cooped up in stuffy basements, playing poker with dudes who reek of sweat? Not Gabe Saporta, not when he could be on a beach surrounded by half-naked people. 

Instead of a too-hot suit, Gabe gets to wear short shorts and a neon tank top, and instead of a deck of cards, he works with a rented refrigerated truck. He’s getting his supply at a good price, thanks to the Ways' uncle’s cousin, a dude who is actually for real named Vinnie who works at the Haagen-Dazs warehouse. 

It started as a joke over breakfast with Pete, one of the mornings when Gabe had just woken up and Pete hadn’t gone to bed yet. Those are the best times, that window between the moment the effects of Gabe’s sleeping pills wear off and Pete’s kick in, both of them foggy and lazy and no filters up between brain and mouth. It had been so hot and stifling that day, way too hot for May in New York, and the answer to “how can we take over the world” had quite logically been “ice cream”. 

Once that was settled, it was only a question of getting the others on board – never a problem, because Gabe’s friends are the best, and all too happy to basically get paid to hang out at the beach all summer instead of working retail jobs – and finding the truck and supply, which Pete had obtained through his Mikeyway contacts. Mikeyway, Gabe quickly learned, was one well-connected dude. 

* 

The plan is foolproof, and the benefits, both financial and personal, are pretty sweet. The awesome tan, steady job and socializing make his mother smile and pinch his cheek. (He doesn’t mention the “mostly illegal” side of it.) And Gabe gets to do his favorite thing, which is to give people what they want, but in a way that doesn’t require him to be naked, which for some reason makes his therapist happy, too. 

It feels pretty good, being on top of this thing. Gabe’s not about to let one Guy fuck up his system, no matter how pretty the Guy is. 

* 

After a week of observing from a distance, Gabe finally decides to approach the Guy with the Guitar himself. The plan is simple. He needs to figure out what the Guy’s deal is, or, barring that, try to freak him out enough that he’ll stop invading Gabe’s territory and disturbing the peace on Gabe’s beach. (Some part of Gabe knows perfectly well that a guy sitting still on a beach, not doing anything, doesn’t really disturb the peace. Except maybe Gabe’s peace of mind. Whatever, it’s the _principle_ of the thing.) 

He figures maybe a direct approach is best, so on Tuesday, about ten minutes after the Guy arrives, Gabe walks up and flops down in the sand next to him. Sand goes up his shorts immediately, which is something Gabe tries to avoid at all cost. He stops himself from wriggling. The Guy’s jeans, Gabe notices, are so tight that there’s probably no chance of any sand getting inside. 

“Yo,” Gabe says, “I’m Gabe. You?” 

The Guy doesn’t introduce himself. He doesn’t even look at Gabe, just keeps staring at the ocean. All Gabe gets is a sigh and a slight shuffle when the Guy tightens his arm around his guitar case. 

“No names on the first date, I get it,” Gabe tries. “So, the beach, huh?” 

Silence again, but the Guy casts Gabe a side glance one could qualify as “bitchy”. Okay then. Bitchy is familiar territory, Gabe can work with it. 

“One of those days, then. Okay, dude, I’ll leave you alone. You know what helps on those days, though? Chocolate ice cream. On the house.” 

“No thanks,” the Guy replies, sounding exasperated. Gabe takes that as his cue to leave it for now. 

He’s made contact, though, and no one can resist Gabe for long. He just needs to find the right flavor. 

* 

Gabe tries again the next day, but this time he doesn’t even have a chance to sit down before he gets a “No thanks” from the Guy. He’s wearing his bandanna around his knee today, Gabe notes. 

“No vanilla either, then?” Gabe asks, but it’s a rhetorical question. 

* 

He doesn’t get to try again for a couple of days. The Guy is there, sitting in his usual spot, but there’s a problem with a group of kids trying to be tough guys on Gabe’s turf, scaring the kids and hounding the girls, and that unfortunately takes precedence over trying to solve Gabe’s favorite enigma. 

Gabe holds a war council with Pete; they decide the best way to deal with it is to get somebody in to take care of it. Pete says he knows the right people. Gabe trusts him with it. 

When Mikeyway shows up the next day, no one is surprised that he was Pete’s contact. But he’s got his brother and friends in tow, and that’s not exactly what Gabe had in mind. Gerard’s wearing alarming shorts and turquoise socks, his tattooed friend is barely half Gabe’s size, and the guy with the fro looks like he’s being eaten by his hair. Humidity is not Gabe’s friend either, but at least he wears a hat. 

Gabe’s already thinking up a plan B when Pete comes to lean against the truck with him, handing him an ice cream cone and nodding toward the water. 

Gabe can’t quite believe his eyes. As far as he can see, the Ways and their friends never even touched the kids, they’re just talking, but Gabe sees the kids’ faces go from defiant to admiring over the next couple of minutes. Then they’re actually _hugging_ Gerard and shaking hands with the others. Pete gives Gabe his patented “told you so” smirk. 

Once the guys are back at the truck, Gabe tries in vain to pry the secret to their inspirational talk away from them. Instead, he gets a lecture about great responsibilities he’s pretty sure he heard in a movie one time and a sweaty hug from Gerard that knocks their bare knees together in a way Gabe isn’t really comfortable with. 

Which is strange, really, because Gabe is usually all about rubbing himself on people, and Gerard’s yellow hair is actually weirdly attractive once you get used to it. But all he can think of is Guitar Guy’s skinny jeans and his ridiculous long hair. 

Gabe thanks the guys warmly, gives them 30% of that day’s takings, and watches as Gerard, Frank and Ray walk off along the shore while Mikey drags Pete back into the truck’s cab. (Gabe never sees the wannabe gang kids on the beach again, but he thinks he spots one of them coming out of the guitar store at the mall the next day.) 

* 

Over the next few days, Gabe tries everything in his arsenal. He jokes, croons and cajoles; he goes through his entire catalog of flavors, always with the same result. He can’t get the Guy with the Guitar to take anything, even out of sympathy, and he still doesn’t know his name or what the hell he’s coming to the beach for. 

Gabe’s entire belief system is based firmly on the idea that everybody wants something from him. It’s just a question of figuring out what they like, then giving – or selling – it to them. William doesn’t seem to want _anything_ , which means that Gabe can’t give it to him, which in turn means that Gabe doesn’t matter to William at all. Gabe doesn’t deal well with feeling insignificant. 

He knows he's driving himself insane here, feeling like he’s banging his head against a wall day after day. He can’t even distract himself with sex. None of the women appeal to him anymore, nor do the bros who’d blow him under the pier. He hasn’t gotten laid in weeks. He’s even stopped trying to peek inside the truck when Pete and Mikey are rocking it. He goes home, jerks off and dreams about licking previously-undiscovered flavors of ice cream from the Guy’s collarbones. 

Gabe tries to do the sensible thing and keep his distance. He starts paying more attention to the business side of things again; he talks to Pete about plans to expand, maybe start selling drinks as well, or perhaps actually going legit. He goes to visit Mikeyway and his brother, hangs out with Pete and Victoria, jokes around with Suarez and Ryland and doesn’t think about the Guy staring at the ocean, the Guy who doesn’t do, say, or want anything, not even playing his fucking useless Guitar. 

* 

Maybe the Guy is a hit man and the guitar case holds the instrument of crime. Gabe doesn’t know, because he’s not thinking about it. 

* 

Then the day comes when Gabe wakes up and immediately wants to go back to sleep. It hasn’t happened all summer, but Gabe hasn’t forgotten the feeling, and he knows right then that the whole day is wasted. He hits snooze on his alarm three times and considers not getting up at all, but he’s got the truck keys. 

He thinks about calling everyone and telling them he’s taking a day off. Pete would probably be knocking on his door within the hour, though, making a fuss until Gabe opened it and being a pain until Gabe got dressed and ate and took his pills. 

So Gabe does drag himself out of bed, sends Pete a text about being late and warning the others, then gets to the beach and tries very hard not to think about anything at all for the whole day, keeping his mind on the little things instead of the implacable reality that life is pointless and doomed, and nothing he does matters in the least. 

Then he gives up and stares at the ocean and breathes along with the sound of the waves. Maybe he’s starting to understand the Guy after all. 

He doesn’t even pretend that he’s not looking forward to seeing him. On days like these Gabe is honest with himself. He goes and sits in the sand and waits. 

The Guy arrives right on time, puts his guitar case down and sits close to Gabe. They don’t talk or look at each other, but Gabe feels like he’s finally getting it.

Finally, as the Guy gets up to leave, he nudges Gabe with his shoulder and says, “Hi. I’m William.” 

* 

That night, Pete takes Gabe out and they get majorly wasted. Dawn finds them eating ice cream on the beach, and this time Gabe does call everyone and tell them to take the day off. He sleeps for most of it. When the sun sets, he wonders if William waited for him. 

* 

It’s better the next day. Gabe goes to the beach and walks through his turf, giving the kids high-fives and smiling at the moms. He sits with the surfers and listens to “No Woman, No Cry” a hundred times. 

When the families pack up, he goes to sit in William’s spot and waits. 

“So,” William says when he arrives. “If you’re not doing anything right now, I’ve got an empty apartment with a bed in it.” 

Gabe looks at him in surprise. If this is what William was coming to the beach for all along, Gabe’s not going back to therapy. 

“What’s up with the guitar?” he asks, instead of getting up and grabbing William. Wow, isn’t today just full of surprises? 

William sighs, then sets the case next to Gabe, sitting across it. At first it seems like he’s not going to answer, but then he says: “Fuck. Okay. I used to be in this band.” 

Gabe waits. 

“It’s over. We broke up,” William says. "Ten years of my life, down the drain."

“That’s harsh,” Gabe says. “I used to play bass and sing. We recorded a couple albums before going down in flames.” 

William does look at him then, a deep, searching look. “Yeah?” he offers, tentative. 

“Yeah. So what’s the problem? You can’t play anymore?” 

William shakes his head. “No, I _can_. I can play, and it feels like I’ve got all these songs inside, you know? But it’s also like… It feels like cheating. I don’t know if I should. Not yet. Not without them.” 

Gabe nods. Bands, seriously. “It’s the mourning period,” he says. “But if it’s really over you need to accept it and move on, dude, or eventually you’ll just… dry up. If you’ve still got songs, you need to let them out, fuck everything else.” 

There’s another beat, then William says: “Wow, that’s actually kind of deep and helpful, I’m impressed,” and elbows Gabe in the side. 

“Don’t let the shorts fool you,” Gabe says lightly, but for once he actually agrees with himself. He wishes someone had told him the same thing back when he needed it. Or that he’d listened. 

“You could bring some ice cream,” William says. “To my place.” 

“I fucking knew it!” Gabe exclaims. “I knew you were fronting. Come on, spill, we’ll get your favorite.” 

William laughs. It sounds really nice, Gabe things. “I really don’t like it, sorry. But hey, I’m disappointed with your lack of imagination. Ice cream isn’t just for eating, you know.” 

* 

Once they're inside William’s apartment, William opens the freezer compartment of his fridge and takes out a bottle of vodka. 

“Not that I usually turn down free booze, but-” Gabe starts. He doesn’t feel like a drink right now. 

“Put your ice cream in there before it melts,” William replies. He doesn’t open the bottle, just sets it on the table. “Later, then,” he says, then advances on Gabe. 

* 

“You should get me a Magnum now,” William says once he’s been perched on Gabe’s lap for a while, his hair tickling the sides of Gabe’s face as they kiss slow and dirty. Gabe’s hands are stuck in William’s back pockets – how he even managed to wedge them in there is a mystery – and he’s not exactly firing on all cylinders anymore. 

He says “Oh, baby, I’m flattered, but-“ before William awkwardly clambers off his knees and nudges Gabe towards the kitchen area. 

“From the freezer, dumbass. Get me one,” William repeats, and Gabe obeys. He’s coming to terms with the fact that he just doesn’t understand William most of the time, but he can probably live with that. 

He comes back with the ice cream and stands there, hard in his shorts and most likely looking completely disheveled and ridiculous, until William rolls his eyes and beckons him back onto the couch. “Jesus, you’re slow for someone who’s supposed to be so clever,” he says. “Unwrap it and sit down!” 

Gabe does, setting the wrapper on the coffee table, then leans back against the cushions. He watches as William shuffles closer, tucking his hair behind his ears, then grabs the stick and wraps his lips around the tip. 

Gabe racks his brain for something clever to say, but the way William’s licking is rather distracting. 

“Only thing ice cream is good for,” he says. “Lean back.” 

Gabe does, and there’s something poking him in the back, but it’s all forgotten in the next moment when William bends over his chest and starts licking. Gabe is vaguely conscious of the fact that he’s been sweating all day, but it doesn’t seem to bother William.

It stops bothering Gabe pretty soon, too, as William keeps dragging his cold tongue lower and lower, making his way between Gabe’s abs, around his belly button and finally down to his waistband. 

There’s no way William can be confused about what Gabe wants, not with Gabe’s hard-on poking him in the chin, but Gabe still says “Fuck yeah” when William drags his shorts and briefs down. 

He tries to touch himself a little while William goes back to the Magnum, but William bats his hand away immediately and puts his hand around Gabe instead, thumb stroking in circles for what feels like a long, long time. Gabe’s going insane with the anticipation, waiting to feel the cold on his overheated skin, but William keeps teasing, making slurping noises that get Gabe's cock very, very interested. It twitches in jealousy, and Gabe gives up and starts humping William’s hand. 

Finally, _finally_ William’s mouth is on him, and it’s a shock of sensations, heat and wet and cold all at the same time. When William adds suction to the mix Gabe stops trying to control himself and just lets go, crying out and pumping up, hands scrabbling at the couch until William grabs one and puts it in his hair. 

William alternates between sucking Gabe and the ice cream until Gabe is ready to beg for mercy, and when he pushes cold fingers against Gabe’s asshole it’s game over; Gabe yanks William up from his cock and comes, shockingly warm against his belly. 

Gabe’s still trying to catch his breath when William crawls up to wedge himself between Gabe and the back of the couch, tugging his shirt off over his head, tearing his fly open and grabbing Gabe’s hand to wrap it around his own hard cock. 

He pants “My turn” and then “Come on, come _on_ ” when Gabe doesn’t give him what he needs right away, muscles still weak from his orgasm. In the end William puts his own hand over Gabe’s and takes over setting rhythm and pressure, and Gabe feels it with his other hand when William’s stomach jumps and he comes all over himself with a shudder. 

* 

Gabe steps in the puddle of melted ice cream on the floor when he gets up to piss. William doesn’t seem to care much about his ruined carpet, and fuck knows Gabe doesn’t either. 

*

The next day, they sit on the beach together, and Gabe raises his middle finger at his so-called friends who keep walking past them and snickering (Ryland) or cooing (Pete). There’s a disturbing lack of discipline and respect in his troops, he thinks. He needs to start acting like the boss again, probably. He doesn’t really want to, though. 

Gabe nags until William agrees to leave his guitar with Victoria and come walk in the water with him, and they both laugh when the children start running around them and the moms give them beaming smiles. He gets thumbs up from the stoner dudes. It’s pretty cool. He can’t convince William to share his ice cream, but William doesn’t duck away when Gabe kisses him with vanilla-covered lips, and Gabe can be patient. 

The whole thing feels kind of ridiculous but also pretty nice. It’s almost like they’re in one of those silly love songs Gabe always hated. He finds himself humming as he watches the wind messing up William’s hair. 

“Are you starting a new band then? With your songs?” Gabe asks when they’re back on the sand, flopped down in what Gabe’s started thinking of as “their spot.” 

“I’m not sure,” William says. “I think I might try to do the one-man thing for a while, see how that goes.” 

Gabe sighs. “Fuck, I miss playing,” he says, and realizes as he says it just how true it is. “I just miss having a band, you know?” 

“Dude,” William says in that tone of his that Gabe is starting to learn amounts to calling Gabe stupid. “Look around you.” He nods to the truck, where Pete is giggling as Nate provides the beat to Ryland and Suarez’s mariachi impersonation, Victoria harmonizing between peals of laughter. 

“You already have one.” 

* 

The End


End file.
